Of Piano Keys And Unsaid Words
by I Am Me And I Can Fly
Summary: He watched the other man as he slept, with solemn eyes and a sorrowful feeling in his chest. What he wanted, he could never have. What he desired would never be his...a France x Austria drabble.


_Of Piano Keys And Unsaid Words_

_A France x Austria Fanfic _

_Summary -_

_He watched the other man as he slept, with solemn eyes and a sorrowful feeling in his chest. What he wanted, he could never have. What he desired would never be his. _

He lets out a sigh, leaning against the cold window as he listens to the man play the piano. Rain is falling, the sound is faint and Francis finds it easy to ignore. All that he can feel at the moment is beauty, pain, sorrow and lust. When he hears him, it is as if the entire world doesn't matter. Everything is Roderich, everything is that music as it engulfs him and fills the room.

And then it came to an abrupt stop.

"...you're soaked." Roderich stated bluntly, his eyes still staring down at the piano keys. The fingertips of his slender and thin hands linger upon the keys, the emotion of his song still wearing down.

And Francis only shrugs, drops of rain water dripping down onto his black shirt. "It does not matter, _mon cher. _Won't you play for _moi_ again? _Non_?"

"You. Are. Soaked." The other man repeats, finally ripping his gaze away from the keys and sparing the Frenchman a brief glance. "You will get my floor wet. I don't quite fancy that notion, Francis. Why are you here?"

"Is it so wrong to want to occasionally drop by and visit my ex-husband?"

The sound of an angry fist slamming down on piano keys...Francis sighs, wincing slightly but says nothing. He knows very well how much Roderich hates it when he brings up their 'marriage'. But he will continue to do it, and perhaps not only to annoy him. Francis loved Roderich, still loves him and the musician is completely aware of this.

"_Ja_." Is all the Austrian murmurs, back turned to the blonde behind him.

"_Oui_?"

"...leave. You're irritating me, Francis."

At that the Frenchman cannot help but chuckle, crossing his arms and staring down Roderich's back. "_Oui_, well...I've always irritated you. That has never stopped _moi_ from coming back."

"I said leave."

"_Non_." And now he pouts. "I want you to play for me again."

"_Nein!_"

With an annoyed look, Roderich stands. Turning on his heel, the man glares at Francis. "_Nein._ Leave."

Contemplating this, Francis looks up at the ceiling in deep thought. After a moment's consideration, his smile curves into a smirk and he looks back at the Austrian. "Not until you give me I came for."

"...I don't want to play for you anymore." He argues, looking away and staring down at the floor. "I just don't."

"But that's not what I'm talking about, _mon amour_." Another deep chuckle, and he stands up. Roderich is still, completely unmoving. Deep down inside, he is completely aware of what his ex-husband is talking about. But he wants it, he wants it and they are both aware that he has feelings for Francis despite his arguments. And he will always succumb to the Frenchman, always no matter what.

And as always, Francis advances towards the Frenchman in quick strides. Not wasting a moment, he gently brings Roderich's gaze up to him. They lock eyes for a brief half-second, and then Roderich is pulled into a hungry kiss.

The brunette, he does not respond for the first few moments. But, like always, he cannot resist. Kissing back eagerly, there is no fight for dominance as Roderich allows himself to be completely controlled.

"You are as willing as always, _mon amour_.." Francis whispers, pulling away from the kiss.

"Shut it. Just...kiss me again."

"Ohonhon.."

Only for him, only for Francis. He is the only one that Roderich will let his guard down for.

It is only when the two men are lying side-by-side in bed a few hours later, as Roderich sleeps, that Francis allows himself to think again. His bare body is covered by a silk sheet, and he carefully turns onto his side so as to not disturb or wake the other up.

Roderich knew, he had always known, always would know about the depth of Francis' feelings. For Francis was in love with the Austrian and knew that he would always would. But Roderich was stubborn. Roderich would always be stubborn. He would allow himself to be dragged in by Francis whenever he came to call on him.

Would they always be this way? Making love every now and then, acting as if nothing had happened the morning after?

And so he watched the other man as he slept, with solemn eyes and a sorrowful feeling in his chest. What he wanted, he could never have. What he desired, would never be his.

_F i n _

_Author's Note -_

_And here is my second published Hetalia story. This is really more of a drabble, really. It was written on a whim. My one true pairing will always be France x England, but I have really fallen in love with this pairing. I just really love it. I'm sorry for the crappy quality. I did my best to capture the characters, as for how I did must be judged by others. Constructive critisism is appreciated and asked for, and so are reviews. Merci for reading, and au revoir ! _


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